Sitting here writing while my love makes dinner for me makes me think how many languages could love possibly have that we miss on a daily basis. I don’t like cooking, in fact, I don’t like the feeling of being in the kitchen for a long time… but when a voice calls out to me to be the “petit chef” I happily go and help. I am like a kid asking every second what I need to do. I am excited… why I asked myself?

Upon revisiting my old journals, I realized something – It was in one of my massive bucket list journals that I would love mon amour to cook for me. I then realized that I love the sight of my man cooking dinner on a weekend for me and love the sight of the apron on him. Sounds silly but thinking about it deeper, realized that it is the effort beyond the action that matters. The way he invents new ways of cooking the same dish and the constant effort to find out how I like things. it counts. The way the music plays in the background – the effort to play “my music” the way he hums along with the magic cooking wand in his hand. The way he gets lost while talking to ensure the salt is upto my taste. The way I am wanted…the way he wants me to taste his freshly cooked prawns but also ensures that it is not too hot before he gives it to me.

Out of all the badness in the world, if we look closely, all our little worlds are beutiful. We always focus on what we dont have than what we have. We dont consciously stop time in a moment to focus on each thing happening and listen to the sounds of happiness and sounds of life.

If only we stop to notice all that we have. If only we immerse ourself in good feelings. If only we try and listen to the languages which are unsaid.. Our life would be different.

#lifeisbeautiful. #awareness. 🙂

Till next time.

Vignette.